


The God of Death

by OddLittleSpider



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Badass Armin Arlert, Badass Bertolt Hoover, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Manga & Anime, Mentioned Bertolt Hoover, Minor Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Armin Arlert, POV Bertolt Hoover, POV Minor Character, Psychological Horror, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddLittleSpider/pseuds/OddLittleSpider
Summary: Inheritors of the Colossal Titan have passed on a closely guarded secret for centuries: they have the ability to visit their predecessors before them via Paths.In his dreams, Armin visits this unknown land, encounters Bertolt, and realizes...even in death, they are enemies.
Relationships: Armin Arlert & Annie Leonhart, Armin Arlert & Bertolt Hoover, Armin Arlert & Eren Yeager, Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart, Bertolt Hoover & Annie Leonhart, Bertolt Hoover/Annie Leonhart, Mikasa Ackerman & Armin Arlert, Reiner Braun & Bertolt Hoover
Comments: 13
Kudos: 103





	The God of Death

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This work contains minor profanity (used for characterization and realistic dialogue) and non-graphic violence.

The day after Armin Arlert inherited the Colossal Titan, he traveled to an unknown land. 

In this world, light-colored sand covered the ground and stretched across an infinite horizon. He often wondered if the sand outnumbered all the salt in the ocean. He kneeled down to feel the particles of sand slip between his fingers. Perhaps this is what sand from the ocean would feel like? He had yet to see the ocean. 

But Armin was awestruck when he looked up at the sky. 

Aurora borealis - the Northern Lights. It was more beautiful than the illustrations in his childhood books. And it was made all the more beautiful by the bright, various colors which streaked across it. 

He felt at home. Here, time meant nothing. There were no dangerous threats looming in the distance, there were no complicated, conflicting perceptions of what was good and what was evil. For someone who everyone fancied as a grand thinker, he found an attraction to its simplicity. 

He wanted to stay here forever. 

But then he woke up. In his bed, his head stirred with confusion. How long had he been there? It felt like years… 

He panicked, quickly holding up his palms to see if they were wrinkly and old. He breathed a sigh of relief, before chuckling at himself for his stupidity. 

_Idiot, you wouldn’t live that long._

He thought back to the unknown land he briefly occupied in his dreams. He wanted to tell Mikasa and Eren, but abruptly rejected the idea. It had only been a week since he had inherited the Colossal. They were already concerned about him and the last thing he wanted was to worry them over something as trivial as a dream. But was it really just a dream? Why did it feel so real? Why did the air around him and the sand beneath his feet feel so tangible? 

On the third day, Armin returned to the unknown land. 

This time he was convinced it was more than just a dream. He traveled across the vast landscape for what felt like hours yet he saw no signs; the world remained untouched and unoccupied. He laid down to think, his arms stretched out behind his head. The world he had found so mysterious and glorious, now left him bored and unsatisfied. He looked up at the colorful sky and had an idea. He would follow a single streak in the sky and see where it would lead him. There were beautiful colors he could pick from; but he finally settled on a sliver streak in the sky. It looked familiar to him. Had it always been there? He hadn’t noticed it before. 

He followed the direction of the streak but as he walked further and further, it became thinner and thinner. Did this mean he was getting close or further away from the source?   
He thought about turning back but decided against it. Perhaps the streak was like a paint brush; if the beginning was the first stroke, large and full of paint, then the end must be where the paint begins to dry.

Suddenly, he heard a cry in the distance. It was so small, so far-away he was surprised he heard it at all. As he got closer, the sound become more audible but the words still difficult to decipher. As he approached, he was able to grasp a single word:

“ _Home_.”

He clutched his head, struck with an intense migraine. As he got closer to the source, the migraine worsened. He fell to the ground in pain, clenching his teeth. He wondered if he had made a mistake as he rubbed his fingers into his skull. 

“I want to go home! I…want…to…go…home!”

His ears popped as if he had burst through a bubble and instantly, the pain disappeared. 

When he opened his eyes, he saw a huddled figure a few feet away from him. He was in a fetal position, sobbing and crying out as if in pain. 

Armin merely stared at him. 

Despite Armin’s silence, the figure caught sight of him. He looked at him with wide, watery green eyes and a face etched in desperation.

“I want to go home! I want to go home!” 

It was Bertolt. 

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even speak. He was trembling. He knew this moment would come, but it didn’t lessen the impact.

To his terror, Bertolt crawled toward him, reaching out. But when he grasped his ankle, he let out a gasp. He rose his head slowly and when his eyes met his, he recoiled in horror, immediately burying his face in the sand. 

There was a long, agonizing silence. 

He lifted his head, pieces of sand stuck to the tear stains on his face. 

“So it really is you,” he said, surprisingly calm, “I knew it.”

Armin was silent, unable to move or speak.

“You ate me, huh?” He let out a chuckle. “I’d ask you how I tasted, but I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“Neither am I,” Armin said, finding the courage to speak. 

There was a pause, before Bertolt spoke again.

“What did you see before you woke up?”

“I saw the Colossal Titan, there was a tear down its face. Was that you?”

“Huh,” he said, with a sad smile, “When I inherited the Colossal, that was my first memory too. At the time, I didn’t really understand it. But now…” 

His eyes glittered with tears, his lip quivered. He was fighting back the emotions rattling through his core. He placed his head between his knees; violent sobs shook his entire body. It was hard to watch. 

He lifted his head to scream, “This entire planet hated me before I was even born, I won't be able to see my family ever again, and generations after generations of Eldians will share the same fate as me. It’ll never stop, it’ll never cease. It’s like a machine gun, re-loading bullet after bullet. When will it end?!” 

Armin was silent. He wanted to comfort him, but what could he say? Maybe it was best to let him vent. 

“Armin,” Bertolt said, raising his head. His voice was soft and pleading. “Please take me home. I want to go home.”

“I can’t do that, Bertolt.”

“Then please tell me, are they safe? Reiner, Annie?”

Armin hesitated.

“Please, Armin. I’m dead. There’s nothing I can do. We’re not enemies anymore.”

Armin took a moment to think while Bertolt watched him in anticipation. Finally, he sat down on the hard sand facing Bertolt. 

“Reiner…he was taken by the beast titan and an quadrupedal titan before he could be executed. As for Annie, she’s trapped herself inside a crystal. I don’t know when she’ll come out….if she ever comes out.”

His vacant eyes flickered up at Bertolt.

“The stakes aren’t exactly in our favor.”

Bertolt looked at him in astonishment. He looked away, his eyes somewhere distant - as if recalling a faint memory. 

Armin wondered which one he was thinking of. 

Bertolt smiled. “Reiner, he got lucky and Annie…she sure is clever,” he said, softly. “I’m happy for them, really I am.”

Armin’s muscles tensed. This happiness was _tragedy_ for the Eldians within the walls. They had lost the opportunity to reclaim the armored titan, who was bound to strike again, and any valuable information they could have received was now safely guarded with Annie in her imperishable crystal. 

Armin held back his temper. If he wanted answers, he needed Bertolt’s cooperation. 

The tears on Bertolt’s face were dry now but the pieces of sand remained. He glared at Armin. 

“You lied to me, back at Trost…when you said she was being tortured. There was a dark expression in your eyes, I almost believed you. You really knew how to get under my skin.”

Armin averted his eyes. 

“She’s safe. They’ll never get her now…” His eyes glimmered with hope. 

“Listen, Bertolt. I’m sorry for what’s happened to you. I really am. After seeing your memories, I understand you more than anyone now. But as the current holder of the Colossal Titan, I’m asking you to help me.”

Bertolt looked away, his mouth a straight line.

“Like you said, we’re not enemies anymore,” Armin said gently.

Bertolt started drawing circles in the sand. “You have my memories, don’t you? Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t have them all. You know that.”

“What exactly are you looking for, then? The memory of the day I was born? The first time I learned how to wipe my ass? You can’t find forgotten memories because I forgot them. It’s not like I can remember every single thing in my life, okay?”

“That’s not what I mean. The day I received the Colossal - “

“You mean the day you ate me?” 

Armin was caught off guard by the hostility of his comment and the hatred in his voice. He flinched, it had been painful burdening that guilt and hearing it from the victim himself was tough. But he wouldn’t let Bertolt distract him from his objective. 

“I didn’t have any choice in the matter, you burned me to a char, remember?”

It was Bertolt’s turn to flinch. Armin took advantage of this opportunity of weakness and struck. 

“I looked through your memories, Bertolt. I saw what I thought was everything you remembered. You were a part of the Warriors, a select group of Eldians chosen by the Marleyan government who could transform into Titans. Your primary objective was to claim the Founding Titan, the "Coordinate," and bring it back to Marley. You and Reiner attacked Wall Maria to lure the Coordinate out of hiding. It didn’t work; the mission was a failure. Grisha transferred the power to his son, who wouldn’t remember it until five years later. For five years, you hid your true identity and waited until Eren revealed himself - ”

“So what?” Bertolt said, fidgeting.

“Thanks to you, I know the origin of the titans, the nature of your mission, the extent of my power, and the identities of the beast titan, Zeke and the cart titan, Pieck. I know about Marcel, I know about Marco. I know about Annie and how often you think about her, how closely you’ve watched her. I know everything, don’t I?” 

Bertolt was quiet and wore a stoic expression. 

“But I don’t really. You nearly made me believe I did. You’re pretty smart, Bert…but I’m _smarter_.” 

There it was - that dark, taunting expression, the same one he wore during the Battle of Trost. His eyes wild, almost relishing at the sight of a weakened Bert. Beads of sweat dripped slowly down Bertolt’s face. 

_This again? What the hell?_

Bertolt thought back to Trost and remembered the proud feeling he had felt when he finally made his decision and accepted that humanity in the walls had to die. He had always struggled with the idea of deceiving and killing the people who thought he was one of their own. The very people he once believed were the true Eldian devils. In his short life, he often had just gone along with what people told him to do - Reiner, Zeke, his parents. 

Someone had to do it. If not him then someone else…nothing could have made a difference. 

But at that moment in Trost, he truly understood what it really meant to be the God of Death - the only one who could complete the necessary evil to achieve the necessary good. 

He wanted to laugh at the irony but was too afraid. 

The ability to delve between sweet, empathic little angel to a sadistic, emotionally manipulative schemer was only fitting. He thought back to the weeping Colossal Titan. 

He looked at Armin and was filled with terrible admiration. 

_Armin…you are worthy._

Armin bent down, narrowing his eyes into Bertolt’s. 

“I saw it, but no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t access it. It reminded me of Grisha’s basement - I’ll need a key to get in and its you. What’s in there, Bert? You’re hiding a memory from me, aren’t you? You thought I wouldn’t notice. It must be pretty big since you’ve allowed me access to the rest of your memories to prevent me from even noticing its existence.” 

Bertolt’s fists clenched the sand beneath him. 

“I’ll let you see Annie through my eyes. Don’t you want to look at her? And when she wakes up, don’t you want to hear her voice…one last time?”

Bertolt didn’t say anything and continued to grasp the sand in his hands angrily. But Armin was remorseless; another push might bring him to the edge.

“Wasn’t it Reiner who asked you to tell Annie how you felt about her? You would be honoring him. And Annie would _cherish_ you. Why live your life here with regrets? I can tell her what you want to say when she wakes up. I’ll be your medium. Think of it as your last words.”

Bertolt stood up. He was like a mountain above him, unmoved and silent. 

Then he began to laugh. It started off as a chuckle then he tossed his head back and made a sound only an hysterical man could produce - one who’s lost everything and had nothing else to give. 

“Annie, again? Really, Armin? You can’t keep pulling a rabbit out of a hat! That shit gets old!” 

Armin looked up at Bertolt, surprised and…terrified. His hardened exterior was dissolving. In a single move, the power had been yanked out from under him.

“What can you do to me? I’m not the flesh and blood I once was. In fact,” he said with an eerie grin, “I’m probably still digesting in your stomach.”

Armin’s blood ran cold.

“I’m dead! This is where we go when we die,” he tossed his arms to the world around him, “After death, Colossal Titan Shifters are cursed to wander here for eternity. You must have figured that out by now. It doesn’t matter whether you're good or bad, we all end up here. Reiner, Annie, my family - none of them really mattered to me after I died. What’s the point of loving something you’ll never see again? Things like love, honor, duty, compassion - they’re just fabricated, abstract concepts here. Someday, you’ll join me. Just like our predecessors before us. I’m a reminder of your inevitable fate. You should be afraid of _me_!” 

In an instant, he disappeared and the sand, which was once stuck to his face, fell to the ground. The sand had reclaimed what belonged to it. 

Armin looked up, the silver streak in the sky remained and it traveled in a different direction than before. If he wanted, he could follow it and reach him. But now was not the time.

Armin kneeled on the ground and watched the sand slip from his fingers. He was left alone to contemplate the meaninglessness of existence and of all he loved dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Attack Titan allows it's holder to see into the memories of its successor, so I decided the Colossal Titan should have a special hidden power of its own and be able to see into the memories of its predecessor. That levels the playing field, right?
> 
> Be sure to comment below. I appreciate any and all feedback.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please comment! I love hearing from all of you!
> 
> I might continue writing a few more chapters. Let me know if you would like to read them.


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